


Tales of Clockwork Glass

by rubyisms



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyisms/pseuds/rubyisms
Summary: Just a collection of ozcinder drabbles from tumblr. some are prompt fills and some are not.





	1. Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous: I know you're always taking one word prompts/song prompts so: "Gravity" and Ozcinder?
> 
> song title prompts

He kept coming back to her. Every time they met in the dark hours of the night, whether it was just for a quick romp or the presence of needing another human beside each other for a while, Ozpin vowed mentally he would stop coming back to her. This woman who he knew would bring his downfall.

But much like the gravitational pull of the earth on the moon, he kept coming back to her. And each time they’re wrapped up in a pleasure where they’re both panting and gasping, the bed creaking beneath them, he knows it won’t end. Each time she’s laying at his side, sound asleep, his hand in her hair, he knows he couldn’t stay away.

Without her, he believes he is stronger. In the day, when he is the leader of the brotherhood, keeping the others in line, Cinder Fall is far from his mind. But when the sun sets and the moon rises, her fingers brush over his cheek and he crumbles. And he is  _weak_  for her.

It’s a weakness he’d never admit- not when he knows she is an enemy, and uses him for the sex. And he had an image to uphold; If people heard that he, of all people, had a weakness, they’d assume the worst. So instead, he keeps going back to her. For whatever reason, he can’t stay away.

“Will I see you tonight?” Her painted lips are twitched upwards into a soft smile, and there’s a flicker of hope, where he hopes it’s mutual. That this is more than just sex and comfort.

“Of course, my dear.” And for once, he touches her first, fingers brushing across her cheek and across her face. “I’ll see you tonight.”

As he walks away, he can hear her walk the opposite direction and his heart flutters. There was no mistaking the way her eyes lit up when his fingers touched her, the way her tensed shoulders relaxed. Perhaps, this was mutual after all.

Perhaps, coming back to her isn’t such a terrible thing after all.


	2. Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous: ozcinder cookies
> 
> one word prompts

Cinder was good at a lot of things. She was good at strategy, planning ahead, even if it was months ahead, and fashion.

She was  _not_ , however, good at baking cookies. So it was on the kitchen counter she sat as she watched Ozpin busy themself with mixing the ingredients together in a large bowl. A moment passes as they set the bowl aside and she casually slides her finger into the bowl and helps herself to the dough.

“Must you always ruin my batter?” They ask without turning around and looking at her. Cinder smiles to herself, watching as they turn away from where they’d been pre-heating the oven, a smudge of flour on their right cheek.

“You won’t let me help, so this is the only other way I know how to spend time with you.” She just hums, amused, in response, “And besides, you wouldn’t want to blindly throw down cookie dough on a baking sheet without someone tasting it, right?”

“Dearest, there’s raw egg in there.” Ozpin chuckles at her, walking to grab the bowl from where it sat on the counter. They begin to hum as they go to prepare it on the counter opposite the one she sat on, Cinder watching them with a huff.

“And I care.. why?” She points out, lifting her foot and pressing it against their back. She could’ve sworn they just groaned and leaned back into the touch.

“You could get sick, and you know how I feel about you getting sick.” Ozpin responds, doing their best to ignore her. From the way their shoulders tense, she can tell they’re failing.

“Again, if you would let me help, I wouldn’t eat raw egg to entertain myself.” Slowly, Cinder begins to slide her foot up their back, a growl being pulled from their throat. “What’s the harm in letting me help?”

“I’d let you help if it wasn’t for the fact that last time, you almost burned the kitchen  _and_  the house down, my love.” Ozpin responds, looking back at her, “If you really want to help, you can clean up the mess.”

Cinder looks at the milk carton, eggshells, and other ingredients still sitting out on the counter top before she sighs and slips off where she’d been sitting. “Fine. But I expect the first cookie to be mine.”

They chuckle in response as she begins to get to work, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	3. Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous: Ozcinder "Bruises."
> 
> one word prompts

There are bruises on her thighs. There are bruises on her hips, on her collarbone, and neck. Ozpin supposes the ones along her collarbone and neck are less bruises and more love bites.

There are scratches down his back, the imprints of nails in his hips, and he can feel the indentations left by her nails in the back of his neck. There aren’t as many bruises along his body, but he does have a couple of love bites on his shoulders.

She was a scratcher, he was a bruiser. But they were both covered in marks left by the other during their rough, passionate lovemaking. He’s taking a moment to appreciate his handiwork when he feels a warm hand curl around their wrist.

“Ozpin.” Cinder begins and he swallows. Everything about her leaves him melting inside. From her voice, from her radiant beauty and the molten eyes that seemed to burn right through his soul. It leaves him shuddering.

But he doesn’t answer her. Not right away. Instead, he is leaning in to kiss her, lips ghosting past hers. He knows if he answers, this moment would be broken and they’d have to go back to their roles in the world. Headmaster and false maiden. Good and evil. Enemies. And he didn’t want to go back to that.

Not quite yet.


	4. Is that my shirt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> airrichan: OzCinder. 35. Bonus points if it's Oz doing the shirt stealing somehow. <3
> 
> ask meme prompts

“Is that my shirt?” It’s the first thing Ozpin hears from her that morning and he’s chuckling as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. Cinder’s standing in the doorway, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she yawns and he can’t help but admire the view of her for a moment.

“To be fair, it was  _mine_  first.” He points out and she rolls her eyes at him, coming to fix herself a cup of coffee. Her right hand comes up to brush her hair from her face, a hand finding a mug. “I just took it back while our clothes wash.”

“That’s…” Cinder pours the coffee in the mug and takes a sip, sighing after she has a moment to let the scalding hot liquid settle in her body. “That’s fair, I suppose.” And Ozpin chuckles again, setting his mug down and reaches to brush a few stray hairs from her face. She makes a face and pulls her head back slightly. “I haven’t showered yet. I look pathetic.”

“Oh darling,” Ozpin coos, “you never look pathetic to me. Shower or no shower, makeup or natural, bedhead or styled, you’re always perfect.” That gets his wife to smile and he can feel his heart flutter in his chest.

Then she opens an amber eye and stares up at him. “Don’t try to butter me up. Give me my shirt back.” And he laughs and shrugs his shoulders, pulling the shirt off, a hand holding it out to her.

Today was going to be a good day.


	5. Conflagration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous: Ozcinder- Conflagration
> 
> one word prompts

Everything about her screams danger. The way she walks, the way she holds herself. From the short distance between the two of them, Ozpin can feel flames radiating over her body, a soft crackle, growing in intensity as she walks closer. 

It started off gentle and soft, like a torch lit to guide the way in darkness. But the closer Cinder approached Ozpin, he can feel the heat, now a blazing inferno of danger, a fiery vortex that would suck him in and consume his soul if he allowed her to continue her approach. If he allowed  _this_ to continue.

“Ozpin.” She says and then her lips are on his and he’s returning it, flames licking at his hands and sleeves.

Perhaps being consumed by eternal hell fire wasn’t such a bad fate after all, he decided.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always taking prompts over on tumblr @smokypercy!


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